Monday, November 24, 2008

Making Favorites

A few years ago I was at a wake. I have been writing a lot about death lately, but please bear with me. So I was at this wake. This was a wake for a dear friend of mine. She unfortunately passed as a result of complications in her struggle to heal cancer. This woman was one of the most gracious people I have ever known.

Now, I have never been one who likes to make favorites. I think we get a lot of that when growing up and I don't think that it is fair. Yes, we can love people in completely different ways, but making someone your favorite child or friend or parent or grandparent etc sets everyone up for being hurt in the long run. Some people are very blatant about the fact that "He's my favorite son" or whatever the relationship might be. This hurts the others in their lives. Or so I thought, until this wake happened.

People got up to speak about my friend. They introduced themselves as her favorite nephew, 1st daughter, younger daughter, mailman, uncle and the list went on and on. I found myself getting up to the mic and saying that I was her favorite shaman, which brought a lot of laughter. But the thing is, it was true and I know in my heart that it is true of every person there.

This was a woman who, without "making favorites," made everyone in her life feel like they were literally her favorite. This was a huge gift that she gave everyone in her life and that will continue to flow and ripple throughout the world as a result of her sacred path. I feel so honored that I was able to feel that from her. I feel that everyone in that very packed hall at the wake must surely feel the same way as well.

For this I am grateful.

Blessed Be



Gail said...

I attended a funeral the morning of Nov 24th. It was the first funeral I'd attended since my Grandfather crossed over in 1973. I cried my eyes out through most of the ceremony, and wept on my neighbour's shoulder as we hugged each other afterwards.
It is only now, as I write this comment, that the light goes on, and the true meaning of the funeral ceremony is sinking in - deeply.
So many mourners were in attendance that day - so many that, if any more showed up, they'd be standing in the aisles and lining the walls at the back - their presence showing the family that they're not alone in their grief and sadness.
Once the sting of loss eases, I'm certain they'll be able to see, even if only a little bit at first, the tremendous outpouring of love and support from an entire village, one that spans the country and beyond, standing shoulder to shoulder with them in this saddest of all moments in time, each mourner willing to help, in whatever way they can, as they walk this most painful part of their individual journeys.
I never thought I'd be thankful for attending a funeral, yet I am, because my Spirit, my Mind and every cell of my physical Body was infused with one of the Greatest Universal Truths - a message that my Soul has been trying to get across for many, many years - In the presence of Love, miracles happen.

Trent Deerhorn said...

Well said!